Claws
by lucidreams
Summary: Wolverine's having a practice session in the danger room when his animal and violent instincts begin to rise. A darker, more violent side of Wolverine is portrayed in this story. Warning: Contains violence and sexual language. Hints at sexual violence.


_Who's the real monster, Sabertooth or Wolverine?_ He heard that question whispered countless times in his dreams, in a voice that had haunted him ever since woke up with his claws and no memory of who or what he was. It was Xavier who told Logan he was a mutant but the old man still thought of himself as a monster.

Watching the dark-haired X-man train in the danger room would certainly have an audience thinking he was a real monster. Clothed in mostly black with seven inch long adamantium claws sticking out of his fists, Wolverine moves with a furious precision as he destroys his metal opponents. No mercy. That is what he has taught his students and it is a truth Wolverine learned long ago. Show mercy to your opponent and get it spit back in your face when the bastards take advantage of you.

_This is what you're teaching a bunch of kids?_ It was a miracle that Xavier even let him near those kids. Either the old man was naïve about Logan or he didn't have a clue just how strong Wolverine's animal instincts could be. Wolverine slashed at one machine that fired red lasers, much like Cyclops's eyebeam. He decapitated it in one quick swoop. Metal spikes whizzed in the air, giving Wolverine enough warning to turn his torso and allowing the spikes to miss by mere inches. A growl erupted from his throat as he back-flipped and landed smoothly next to the weapon. His left hand lashed out and another clear cut separated the machine from its power source.

_What would Xavier think if he knew that you were picturing doing this to his students? _A gruff, familiar voice silently questioned Wolverine. He gritted his teeth. Sabertooth, Christ he'd never forget that voice in a million years. _What would Xavier think if he knew you imagined painting the danger room red with blood? And what about those thoughts you have at night? Letting the animal side loose and taking what you wanted. Imagining Jean's hip's bucking beneath your body. Imagining Rogue's breasts in your hands. Imagining Storm's lips on yours…_

"ARGH!" His claws catch the light as they move all the more furiously at his rage for what he wants to do, rage for what he cannot have, and shame for these secret thoughts. Sparks fly as he destroys more and more of the danger room when a voice cries out over the intercom.

"Logan! What's wrong?"

A strong, regal voice filled with concern. Even from this far away, even as he is lost in his rage, Logan imagines he can smell her. She smells like the rain, like the winds. The machines still as the monster slows down. He's panting now, ragged breath that reveals just how agitated he was. _Calm yourself, you've got company._ A constant, yet silent, order that Wolverine's all too familiar with. He wishes he could just do away with all that restraint and control and just do what his instincts demand. He manages to speak after a few moments.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm fine Storm." It's a lie that tastes bitter in the back of his throat and Storm doesn't believe for a moment.

"Something is wrong", her gentle voice insists, sounding closer now as the dark-skinned beauty has left the safety of the observation desk and has entered the Danger room. Wolverine can sense her behind him and can smell all the more strongly. _Is she crazy? Doesn't she know how dangerous I am?_ If Storm had any sense she would have stayed in the observation room.

_Her own choice, her own stupidity. Not your fault if she ignores common sense_, the animal inside him growled.

_She came down because she trusts you_, a lone voice replied. A voice deep inside his conscious.

_No one would know until it was too late. You could make sure no one ever found her_. Wolverine closed his eyes as though that would shut out the animal inside. As if anything could.

_You're better than that. You're not a monster!_ He swerved suddenly as her hand reached out to touch his shoulder. The claws were still out but Wolverine moved quickly and carefully enough to avoid spilling blood as the adamantium blades sliced up, catching a lock of Storm's brilliant white hair.

_Like snow_, he absently thought as he watched the hair float gently to the ground as Storm jerked back, her eyes blazing with white hot rage. And fear. Her face hide it well but no one could fool his nose as the fear was laced in her sweat. Wolverine's heart beat raced like thunder in his ears. He would have missed what Storm was yelling if he hadn't been watching her lips.

"In the name of the Goddess! Logan, what has gotten into you?" The lightening has begun to form between her fingers , telling Wolverine that she was on the defensive now. She knew to be scared now.

_She's not screaming though. She's not scared __**enough**_ Wolverine's claws suddenly slashed again. Storm was quick however, quick as lightening, and quicker than Wolverine had given her credit for as the lightening flew from her hands in a burning blue rush. A cry escaped Logan. He might be able to heal from anything thrown at him but he could never escape the pain. The blue snake cut through his body, following the path of his metal skeleton, flaring repeatedly as Logan cried out over and over again. Pain so intense that it almost felt good.

"Enough!" A male voice cried out, both out loud and in Logan and Storm's minds. "Stop it, both of you!" Professor Xavier ordered over the intercom as the lightening died and the claws retracted. "Storm, I will talk to you later. Wolverine, I wish to speak to you now, in my study!"


End file.
